Welcome to the Rose Mansion - Chapter 104
He told Richelle Howard that he had never been to the kitchen, but that was a lie.
Alan Otis had, in fact, gone down to the kitchen on his own and faced the chef directly. It happened around the time his mother had completely lost her mind.
The boy wanted to die. He desperately wanted to die, so he sought out the most dangerous being in the mansion—the chef. He believed that the chef could end his life.
It was around that time that he discovered the passage the chef used to move the food carts. Alan snuck into the kitchen through the passage, and that day, the chef devoured about a third of the flesh from his right thigh.
Just before the boy lost the rest of his flesh, Rogéros came to the kitchen. After Alan was treated, Rogéros slapped him across the face and placed a collar around his neck.
—It would be troublesome if you died, Alan. Your father is no longer of use.
As if cherishing something precious, Rogéros gently stroked Alan’s head as he whispered those words.
It was a horrifying experience, too painful to recall. But looking back now, Alan realized he had gained something from it.
For example, an understanding of the chef’s characteristics.
Alan stepped into the kitchen and approached the table where food had been set. He picked up a round meat pie. It felt just right in his hand.
“Good.”
First characteristic: The chef has an intense obsession with the food he prepares.
Alan swung his arm wide and hurled the pie to the far side of the floor. Splat! The brown meat splattered as the pie crumbled messily.
The chef, who had been engrossed in devouring the corpse, turned his head. His small, button-like eyes fixed on the ruined meat pie.
And here’s the second characteristic: The chef is incredibly slow.
The chef sluggishly rose and began to shuffle toward the meat pie. Behind him, Richelle Howard darted quickly toward the back of the kitchen.
Her face, set in determination, focused solely ahead as she ran. She would succeed. From the first day they met until now, she had always been that kind of person.
In that case, I need to do my part.
Alan picked up a soup bowl and threw it. Soup splattered through the air, along with shards of glass.
With the soup now spilled a bit further from the pie, the chef stood there dazed, as if his mind had overloaded.
That’s right, third characteristic: The chef is extremely unintelligent.
‘Has she found the door by now?’
So far, everything was going relatively smoothly. If things continued like this, he could keep ruining the food one dish at a time, then finally flip the entire table over and escape when Richelle got out safely.
But Alan’s life had never gone that easily or smoothly.
“…What?”
And this time was no different.
The chef, who had been scooping up the soup with his hands, suddenly raised his head. His gaze shifted toward the back of the kitchen, where Richelle had hidden.
The food in his hands slipped to the floor. The chef staggered to his feet, his large frame turning toward the back of the kitchen.
“What are you doing? Where are you going?!”
In a panic, Alan grabbed whatever food he could—cakes, roasted chicken, salads—and threw them in all directions.
Crash! CRASH!
The sound of dishes shattering echoed loudly. But it was no use. The chef, who had already lost interest in the food Alan was ruining, was now slowly heading toward Richelle.
Alan’s anxiety surged. He shouted at the top of his lungs.
“Damn it! Hide!”
Did she hear him? Did the governess hear him?
Even if she did, what good would it do? She was still in the kitchen.
I need to buy time. I have to give her enough time to escape.
Alan flipped the entire table over. Even though all of the food he had prepared was now ruined, the chef showed no sign of interest.
Alan clenched his teeth. What should I do?
Suddenly, the corpse the chef had been feasting on caught his eye.
Richelle Howard’s face overlapped with that of the corpse.
“…”
I promised I wouldn’t overdo it.
Alan picked up a knife that had fallen at his feet. Its blade gleamed, sharp enough to cut through soft human flesh without much effort.
He placed the blade against his arm.
“Hey, you monster.”
Fourth characteristic of the chef: The thing that provokes him most is the smell of human blood.
“Look at this. Your favorite.”
Alan slowly drew the knife across his arm. The blood welled up, running down his pale skin in a slow stream.
“Looks tasty, doesn’t it?”
Finally, the chef turned to look at Alan. Drool began to drip from the corners of his mouth.
‘Damn it.’
And the final, fifth characteristic: When the chef becomes extremely excited…
“Graaaagh!”
…he can move at an unimaginably, overwhelmingly fast speed.
With a beastly roar, the chef charged at him.
